Memories & Webs

As I enter the room, two doors stand before me.

To the right, the path made of colorful lights leads toward an entry covered in silk filaments. A faint breeze moves the threads. They sway and quiver as if the corridor inhales those who approach. Something waits beyond the weave. Watching.

To the left another door exudes warmth from a dim tunnel. Voices rise – my friends. The laughter of family. They say my name as it used to be spoken. A song begins, and I know every word before it’s sung. Then the scent: It wafts from the kitchen. The aroma of something sweet cooling in the window. The smells haul memories forward into immediate clarity. Home! I can go home! I could stop walking. I could rest.